


restraint

by kci47



Category: The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Oral Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 13:18:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15340698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kci47/pseuds/kci47
Summary: 'The first time she felt it was after her first Games, when Haymitch told her, "Great job, sweetheart"--and meant it.' // An angry!sex Haymitch/Katniss drabble spun off of a simple movie scene. Not necessarily rape but definitely some dub-con and no happy ending.





	restraint

The first time she felt it was after her first Games, when Haymitch told her, “Great job, sweetheart”—and meant it.

The second time she felt it, she’d come to wake him from his alcohol-induced stupor, splashing water all over his head and shoulders—when he ripped off his wet shirt and yelled at her to “get her annoying ass out of his house before he laid her on his knee and spanked her”—that time, it was stronger.

The third time she felt the powerful bolt of desire was when he slammed her against the wall in the hovercraft, pinning her arms and taking away her needle, all the while trying to calm her with words that didn’t mean anything, nothing at all, since he’d lied and Peeta was gone.

* * *

So she was understandably angry with him the next time she saw him, alone in the passageway in District 13. Angry, even if she was also convinced that there was something _more_ she needed to explore. Still, she was nothing if not fiery—isn’t that why they wanted _her_ as the Mockingjay, after all?—so she shoved him into the nearest utility closet and fucked him without saying a word.

* * *

He was rarely alone after that. She liked to think that was her influence, and she doubled her efforts to catch him by himself. For those handful of minutes in the closet, she’d felt...well, not alive, but at least less _dead_. A week went by without any opportunity, so Katniss began to plot a different tactic. If he wouldn’t allow himself to be caught alone, then perhaps she needed to dispatch of his sentries...

It was laughingly easy to divert Plutarch’s attention one morning—a simple, “President Coin is looking for you” sent the Gamemaker scurrying off with haste. Haymitch’s eyes widened a fraction and he glanced around for reinforcements, but there were none. Katniss had planned this “chance” encounter all too well.

This time, she allowed herself to moan in ecstasy when he took her roughly against the wall.

* * *

From that point on, Haymitch rarely left the War Room—or so she assumed. She didn’t see him, even with guards, and she guessed that he didn’t trust anyone to protect him from her.

She didn’t blame him. She was damned resourceful.

* * *

Two days later, Katniss listened from her hiding spot under the gigantic table in the War Room as Boggs and Gale reported they couldn’t locate her, anywhere.

“No matter. Let’s get on with it,” Coin snapped.

Katniss crept to the spot at the end where Haymitch’s booted feet tapped out an impatient rhythm. Gripping the spot where his ankles met his calves, she felt him stiffen—then he reached a hand down and tried to grab her. Katniss dodged him easily, snaking her hands up to tug at the drawstring of his District 13-issued pants. He couldn’t fight her off without giving them away, though, so she sucked him off under the table while Coin prodded him to critique their latest campaign. When he finished, he was hoarse; but the others just assumed he was passionate about bringing down the Capitol. Only Katniss and Haymitch knew better.

* * *

That night, Katniss woke with a start to find a calloused hand pressed against her mouth. Inhaling through her nose and trying to quell the panic, she swung at her captor. But Haymitch caught her fist easily, restraining her arm and replacing his other hand with his mouth. They fought hard, the District 12 victors, dueling with lips and teeth and tongues. Eventually they both lost—or won, depending on how you viewed it—and gave into the lust between them, no longer caring who instigated.


End file.
